


Resilience

by Virtual_Reality



Series: Steve and Bucky through the years [24]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 1930s, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Cooking, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Huddling For Warmth, Insomnia, M/M, Panic, Panic Attacks, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Storytelling, Stress, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4717607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virtual_Reality/pseuds/Virtual_Reality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This work is part of a series, and probably won't make sense all alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resilience

**Author's Note:**

> Today was a good day - and I'm saying this with an ice pack on my shoulder. So, I finished the update I've been harboring to celebrate. I've tentatively decided that I'm posting for the satisfaction of knowing I didn't give up, but I do hope at least some of you are enjoying this.
> 
> Also, if you're sick of me writing consecutive days, so am I. I just had some things to line up while I got in the swing of writing this again.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and especially for the notes of encouragement. It's nice to hear that someone cares. <3

When Steve comes home from grocery shopping to find Bucky lying across his couch, he can't say he isn't surprised. He's got Beau resting contentedly on his chest, scratching absently behind his ear as he stares unseeing at the ceiling fan. There's a pistol on the coffee table within arm's reach, but that's not the most disturbing security blanket he's seen James with, and Steve trusts him not to use it foolishly. "How'd you get in?" Steve asks quietly, half expecting to find a broken window or a picked lock. "Wait, what are you doing here?"

Beau perks up when he hears Steve's voice, and Bucky sighs, "I missed you, too."

"Sorry, Buck, I just... Is everything okay?"

"Well, someone really needs to teach you how to hide a key." Bucky mutters. "I'm serious now, but other than that... No, everything is awful. Oh, and Miss. Potts let me off early." He glances up at him, eyes nearly bloodshot they're so bleary. "Kind of... Less awful."

"Really?"

Guilt colors Bucky's expression, and he slumps back down. "Actually, I fell asleep on my desk." He admits. "She told me to take the day to get some rest. Seems Tony paved the way for me. She's real understanding."

Steve smiles, and takes the groceries into the kitchen without another word, Beau hops down, and trails after him happily, but James stays on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He heats some water on the stove while he puts the groceries away, and brews them each a cup of tea.

"Are you hungry, love?" Steve calls into the living room. "Did you have lunch?"

"I'm fine, Steve." Bucky murmurs, fully confident Steve can hear him.

"But did you eat?" Steve asks, carrying both mugs to the living room, Beau on his heels.

Bucky is sitting now, legs folded underneath him. He's wearing one of Steve's sweatshirts, and tight, black jeans (and Steve looked him over three times before he soaked that in) "I had breakfast at six, and coffee after that."

"Bucky," Steve groaned, "It's almost three. You gotta eat."

Bucky took the warm mug gratefully. It wasn't as cold here as it was in the tower, but his fingers were still numb with the chill. "I'm just tired. Don't have an appetite." He sips his tea. It's warm and soothing, and laced with spices. He breathes in the spicy aroma, and when Steve sits, he leans against him. "Have you ever been too tired to sleep?"

"How much sleep did you get last night?" Steve asks softly, stroking his hair with a gentle touch.

"I, uh.... Almost two hours? Give or take." He waves a hand, "Off and on. Mostly off."

Steve's still trying to process this when Bucky's focus starts to drift, but his eyes never close. Steve lifts the mug from his hands, and sets it aside, guiding Bucky to rest his head on his chest. "You need to take better care of yourself."

"I'm doing my best." Bucky whispers. "It ain't easy when it's nightmares keeping you up."

Steve frowns, but decides discussing nightmares while trying to get Bucky to relax is counterproductive. "You enjoy your evening yesterday?" he tries, "Nat sent me a picture of you falling asleep on her."

"She did not." James sat up straight, "Did she really?"

Steve nods, ears burning bright pink. "It was cute," he shrugs, "big bad wolf all sleepy and drooling. It helped me while I was missing you so bad."

Bucky groans, and leans back against Steve. "That's awful." He whispers. "That's so awful." He sighs, "I'm going to kill her."

"Sleep first," Steve says, and feels a single cold hand slip under his shirt, icy fingers pressing against his stomach, and he fights the urge to squirm away. Instead, he rubs his back, slowly feeling the tension dissolve.

They stay mostly quiet after that, Steve's thoughts all over the map, Bucky's thoughts nearly silent, an object, a sound, whatever noise the environment brought to his senses. Meaningless and safe, and somehow relaxing. Brooklyn was far from country, but it wasn't the city Manhattan was, and he doesn't know if that's the reason he relaxes so easily, or if the credit was solely owed to Steve, but he feels he can finally let go. He feels safe.

Steve stays there on the couch, drinking his tea, rubbing Bucky's back gently, listening to the pace of his breathing. Beau is playing tug-of-war with his sock, but Steve doesn't mind, he's focused on keeping Bucky close as his body temperature evens out. It was really starting to concern him. He really needs to call Bruce, talk to him about that. He'd studied the serum more than Steve could imagine. He'd know what was causing it...

When Bucky's warm, Steve eases him down onto the couch, going from there to get his heaviest blankets from the closet, wrapping it around his own shoulders while he turned the thermostat up, and changed out the laundry, draping it over Bucky while it was still warm from his body.

He takes Beau for a jog around the block, and brings him in to collapse on the carpet beside Bucky's hand, which hung off the couch after he'd shifted, and with the two of them asleep, he starts on supper. That's where he is when Bucky finds him, looking betrayed, and confused, and sleep rumpled, and... adorable. His hair sticking up only on one side, and Steve pauses halfway through peeling a potato to look at him. "Bad dream?"

Bucky stares at him for a long time before he nods, glances at his hands, at the stove, then back to his face before hesitantly stepping up to the sink, and scrubbing his hands clean. Together, they peel carrots and potatoes, chopping then, and adding them to the broth boiling on the stove. Bucky's never cooked before, but he has a lot he needs to discuss with Steve, and now is as good a time as any, and the anxiety and fear make him frantic.

"I need to talk to you." Bucky says quietly, and when Steve pauses, Bucky backtracks. "That is, if you don't mind." He says quickly.

Steve doesn't respond at first, adding spice after spice to the soup before place a lid on the pot, and turn to face him fully: "Go ahead." He says, and Bucky steps back a little, suddenly unsure. Steve takes both of Bucky's hands in his own, and tries to smile reassuringly. "I won't be mad, baby. I promise. What is it?"

Bucky takes a deep breath, but his voice is still unsteady when he speaks. "I want you to move in with me."

Steve frowns, "You want us to move to Manhattan?"

"...Yes." Bucky's voice is hesitant, almost strained.

"But I thought-"

"Baby," Bucky interrupts, heart racing, "I need this." He whispers, holding Steve's hands tighter, eyes pleading, "You know I wouldn't be asking otherwise."

"Baby, you're shaking." Steve whispers, "Hey, Bucky, calm down."

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, "I'm fine. I'm fine. I... I'm okay."

"You're so tired, Bucky." Steve pulls him close, "We're okay, you and me," he whispers, "Let me talk to Stark, okay?"

"Really? Are you sure?"

Steve closes his eyes, wishing more than anything that Bucky didn't have to suffer like this. It hurt so much to watch his journey, but he knew every step was making Bucky stronger. He knew in the end, Bucky would be whole again, and he'd be resilient, but for now, there was a pain in his chest that refused to subside, and when Steve spoke, he kept his voice soft enough to ensure it wouldn't crack, "Yeah, Buck."

They eat in near silence, but Bucky seems to be doing better once his blood sugar was stabilized, though he's acting very clingy now. A very sleepy looking Bucky is taken to bed immediately after they eat, though Steve himself is far from sleepy, and he goes as far as to turn the air conditioning off before he climbs in bed, stripping down to his boxer briefs to keep himself from overheating, but his main priority is Bucky.

Bucky's traded his jeans for pajama pants, and Steve wished he'd worn a little less, the fleece is hot on his skin, and it feels more like suffocating than cuddling, but when Bucky pressed his face in Steve's neck, he can feel how cold he still is. "Take it off." Steve demands, tugging on the sweatshirt, "Baby, I can't breathe."

"I'm cold." Bucky whispers.

"I can get you warmer," he says, "Just need a little skin on skin contact."

"You don't gotta do that." Bucky whispers.

"It'd be my pleasure, sweetheart." Steve whispers, and because he knows Bucky isn't thinking quite clearly, he helps coax the sweater over his head, but stops when he resists.

Bucky doesn't say anything, so after a few minutes silence, Steve whispers to him:

"Do you remember when you started working at the docks?"

Bucky pauses, looking intensely focused for a minute, before speaking a soft, disappointed: "No."

"That was the year our landlady had air conditioners installed for the whole building," He explained, "and rent went up nearly three dollars."

Bucky smiles, just a little, and still unfocused, but a smile all the same.

"You got a steady salary, though. Almost forty cents an hour, so we were making it by okay." Steve sighs, "You were so proud of supporting us in such a nice place, but after two months we had to move out. Most days you'd come home and find me all bundled up in bed, just tryin' to stay warm, and you'd be all hot, all sweaty and beautiful as can be, strip down to cool off, and strip me down to warm me up at the same time." Steve chuckles, "I'd get so worked up about it, blushin' and babbling. Never made a difference, though. You took real good care of me..." He smiles. "I loved that old place."

"Why did we move out?" Bucky's quiet voice asks.

"Because the air conditioner made me sick." Steve shrugs, "I wasn't used to it. It bothered my allergies." He frowns, "You loved it there, but I couldn't stay, and we wanted to be together more than we wanted material things."

Bucky sits up and strips the sweatshirt off quickly, nearly frantic to get back in Steve's warmth, falling hard against Steve's chest the moment he was free of it, knocking the wind out of both of them. "Sorry," he gasps, but Steve only laughs, and threads his fingers through Bucky's hair, drawing him close to his chest.

"Don't be."

"I'll move back in with you," Bucky says suddenly, "That's all I want is to be close to you. I sleep better, and I'm happier..." He wets his lips, "I feel safe with you." He's quiet for a moment, and his resolve is set, "Yeah, if I can sleep, I can make the drive. I'll be okay. I just need to be close to you again."

Steve doesn't say anything for a long time, fingers carding lazily through Bucky's hair, gradually detangling it, "I don't deserve a man as good as you." Steve whispers, "I'm so lucky..." He kisses the protest from Bucky's lips before he can argue, and his fingers smooth the wrinkle in his brow. "It's my turn to take care of you now, Bucky. If you need me at the tower, it's my job to be there." He presses a soft kiss to Bucky's forehead. "Let me talk to Tony. Okay?".

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, baby."

Bucky nods, moving suddenly, and Steve keeps him close, not wanting him to push himself into a panic again. He gets close, tangling his legs with Steve, cold hands pressing in the small of his back.

"How did we... So we... We held each other.... Just like this?" James looks into Steve's eyes for confirmation, and Steve smiles at him.

"Just like this."

"Yeah," Bucky gives his ass a firm squeeze, "But how did we not..." He chuckles softly, "Screw like bunnies?"

"Oh, we did." Steve assured him, "I could barely keep my hands off of you once we got started, but it took way too long for us to open up to each other."

"I remember that much, I just..." He pushes his fingers under Steve's boxers, and grins, "I can hardly stay awake right now, but there ain't nothin' in me that don't want you to fuck me."

A slow smile spreads across Steve's face, but he shakes his head, "You get better first, and I'll make it worth your while."

"I'm not sick, Stevie. I'll take it like a champ."

Steve kisses his nose. "Tomorrow."

Bucky pouts, and when Steve kisses it away, he keeps him there, nipping at his lips, and tugging Steve over on top of him.

"Nice try." Steve murmurs, "Ain't gonna work, darlin'."

"Are you sure?"

Steve kisses his nose, "Damn sure."

Bucky dreamt of Steve that night, and when he wakes, it's gently, to the warm press of Steve's soft, full lips, and the smell of coffee. His eyes open, and Steve's kneeling over him, practically glowing. His hair is already combed, and he's dressed in his suit. One of 'em, anyway, James doesn't know how many he has, but he does know he loves the way it hugs Steve's body. He cracks a smile he just barely manages to suppress into a smirk. "Is this your plan to make it worth my while?" Bucky hooks a hand behind Steve's knee, drawing it slowly up his thigh. "It's not your worst plan, I'll say that much."

"You wish." Steve winks, "I have a mission, and you, my love, have to go to work today."

"Mmmm, no." Bucky rolls onto his stomach. "Wrong number, voicemail, uh, call me back... Somethin' like that."

"Put some clothes on, sweetheart," Steve whispers, "You can sleep on the drive over."

Bucky twists to look at him, "And if I say no?"

Steve shrugs, "I'll take you in your pajamas. Your choice. You got ten minutes." 

The drive takes a little over the estimated hour, but thankfully, James got dressed, so it was a little easier to say their goodbyes on the main floor, especially since the day was just starting, and the floor was still mostly empty.

"Thank you for yesterday," Bucky says, thumbs in his pockets, "I know I was weird, but it really helped.".

Steve brushes the backs of his fingers over James' cheek, and lifts his face, "That shy shit don't work on me." Steve teases. "I know you better than that."

James eyes flicked up, and with a smirk, he grabs Steve by two handfuls of his uniform, and drags him down for a real thank-you. James is eager, but Steve's mouth is still hesitant against his in front of people. He breaks away, and pulls Steve to the edge of the room, putting an arm around his neck, and pulling him as close as he can get, but before he can reach Steve's mouth, there's the jostle of a doorknob, and they stumble into a dark room. Bucky doesn't get to take in anything else because Steve's kissing him in earnest now, and his stomach erupts with the dancing of butterflies, and one thing was for sure - this wasn't the quick, dirty kiss he was going for.

It was soft, and slow, and sweet, their lips sliding together without effort, each press as gentle as the last, but no less meaningful. His breath is warm on James' face, and his hands fit snugly around his waist as the kiss grew deeper. Steve's body presses closer to his, not quite touching, but Bucky can feel his body heat wash over him. Steve's hands move, slowly, one resting on the edge of the door to his left, the other framing his cheek gently, and when the doorknob jostled seconds later, it was hard not to smile. Steve kisses him through it, sweet and affectionate, his warm tongue caressing James' lower lip, and he opens up to him without thought. His blood heats, and his heartbeat is a stuttering undertone to his sharp, staccato breathing.

But it's still so gentle.

They know their time is up, but they remain unhurried, bringing their kiss to a close slowly, until parting felt as natural as kissing had, and James is well satisfied. They still share the same air as they catch their breath, and James' fingers are wound tightly in Steve's hair, at least while their foreheads were still touching.

"Be careful." Bucky orders, soft, but firm, and he looks into Steve's eyes so he knows he's serious.

"Always am." Steve whispers, and Bucky shakes his head.

"That shit don't work on me," he breathes, "I know you too good for that." His eyes are fierce, and he levels Steve with that gaze, holding his face between both hands. "I'm asking you to be careful."

Steve wets his lips, and he nods, moving only enough to press a warm kiss to James' forehead. "I promise."

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky Barnes is ruining my life. That is all.


End file.
